The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 631

Penelope sat frozen in the stiff wooden chair, her hands locked around the teacup. The ceramic was scalding against her palms, but she couldn't let go. Silas's words hung thickly in the air, refusing to dissipate.

"Christian is not your biological son."

She heard him. She processed every single syllable. But her brain completely short-circuited. Not her son? The boy she had lovingly raised for twenty-eight years wasn't hers? Her lips parted, but absolutely no sound came out.

Silas watched her in silence, offering no pressure. He knew a revelation like this required a moment to land. He picked up his own mug, took a slow sip, and set it down, watching the loose tea leaves swirl at the bottom of the cup.

"What did you just say?" Penelope finally choked out, her voice scraping like sandpaper against glass.

Silas turned to the third page in the folder. It was a printed spreadsheet—a medical chart detailing blood types. He slid it across the desk, tapping a manicured finger against the highlighted text.

"I pulled Lawrence's medical records using a contact at his private clinic," Silas explained, keeping his voice steady but clear. "He is Type O. You are Type A. Christian's blood type is AB. It is biologically impossible for an O and an A to produce an AB child."

Penelope stared down at the crisp black numbers. She recognized the science. It was basic biology, an indisputable fact of genetics. But looking at it now, those letters weren't just data points—they were the brutal executioners of her entire reality. They were proof that the son she had devoted her life to was a fraud. She snapped her head up to look at Silas, her eyes begging for him to laugh and say he had made a terrible mistake.

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"I'm certain. Blood genetics don't lie."

"Could the hospital have made a mistake?" Penelope's voice rose, desperate to cling to any shred of hope. "What if there was a mix-up in the maternity ward—"

"Penelope," Silas cut her off softly, the weight of his tone crushing her argument. "Think about it rationally. If it was just an innocent mix-up by the nurses, why would Lawrence actively hide the truth from you for twenty-eight years?"

Penelope opened her mouth to argue, but the words died in her throat.